Fair Shot
by no.safe.exit
Summary: Bakura is given a golden opportunity to right his past life. Will he succeed, or will the darkness prevail? (Currently in the editing process, new chapter to be posted soon).
1. The Thief Arrives

Bakura awoke with a start, choking on the stench of garbage and fish. His bones ache from a chill that stems from more than the icy rain. With a groan, he opens his eyes to cautiously scan the darkness around him. Something is wrong. He waits in silence for another moment, willing his ears to see what his eyes can not.

Shuffling draws his attention to the right to catch sight of a pair of shifty white eyes. Shadows conceal the figure of a hunched man, clothed in rags. His breathing, labored and raspy, grows harsher with every passing second. Hardly a threat. And then Bakura notices the gnarled fingers clutching a satchel.

In the next second, Bakura is pinning the frail man to the gravel. The gust of breath forced from the man's lungs is putrid enough to knock out a horse. The fragile bones beneath him felt as though they may crack and give way, but that is of little concern to Bakura. He shortens the distance between them until he can feel the mans acrid breath hit his lips.

"Please.. Ah..ah. P-please!" Tears strain from defeated eyes.

"Have you stolen from me?! You will regret it!" Bakura growls out the threat, but he can't be positive that the man had stolen that satchel at all. Yet Bakura's general mistrust and the man's obvious fear was, to him, a dead giveaway. And he would not let the man take what belonged to him, if indeed it was his.

"No! I-I swear!"

Bakura reaches under his belt for a dagger, becoming enraged when it is no longer there. Shit! The anger flowing through his veins forced his fist to connect with the man's face. He cries out in pain as blood trickles from the broken nose. While the old man is stunned, Bakura snatches the bag out his relenting grip and stands to his feet.

Without another glance at the defeated man, Bakura walks out of the alley and into the misty streets. His only thoughts now are on his hikary.

The only problem: Bakura has no idea where he is, and can only assume that the gods have placed him where he needs to be.

The signs take him to the inner city. Skyscrapers loom high above, intimidating in their height. Nothing at all is familiar. The streets that he used to traverse as Ryou's yami are all but erased from memory, now a foggy shroud at best.

The rain begins to pour, but Bakura is too exhausted to care. The way back was intense, depleting him of all his energy.

"Ryou, where are you?"

He continues to walk in silence, contemplating. How long has it been? A year? Two? Would Ryou accept his return?

A heavy thunder clap draws Bakura from his thoughts, just as the sky opens to a torrential downpour.

Up ahead, a man, dressed in an upper-class business suit, darts out of one of the looming skyscrapers. He scrambles for his keys to enter the vehicle parked at the curb, trying to escape the downpour.

"Hey!"

The man turns to look, catches sight of Bakura's ragged appearance, bare chest and wild hair. Frightened, he drops the keys in his haste to open the door.

"Wait!" The man, finally successful at jamming the keys in the lock, enters his car. He eyes Bakura frantically as he walks up to the passenger window to knock on the glass.

"What do you want?! Get away from me!"

Bakura growls under his breath, a string of curses struggling to escape. But his utter exhaustion depletes his remaining anger, leaving him weary.

"I just need directions. I'm trying to find someone!"

"I can't help you." Bakura watches in silence as the man speeds off. Can't help? Or won't help? A long sigh escapes his lips, but he keeps on trudging until his feet can no longer carry him. Soon, the exhaustion takes over completely.

An overhang from a nearby shop looks like a good place to rest. It provides little shelter from the rain, but at least it's something.

Bakura sat awake through the night watching vehicles and pedestrians pass. Nobody seems to care that it's late, and the rain isn't letting up. They carry on in their umbrellas and rain suits, taking no heed to the weather. People eye him as they pass, insulting leers and fearful glances. As time drags on, Bakura wishes the gods had given him his old trusty dagger.

Eventually the rain stops and a fog settles in its place. Unaware, Bakura's focus slips and he fell asleep.

Dawn rose, welcoming a clear sky and warm sun. A man emerges from the building Bakura rests against, startling him from his sleep. Still out of wits, he reaches for his dagger, cursing when he remembers it isn't there. No wonder the Gods saw fit to keep it from him.

The old man is whistling a chipper tune. He smiles at Bakura and chuckles. "Hoo what can I do for you, son! Been waiting long? Ha-ha!" He flips a sign and reenters the building, stopping just a moment for Bakura to follow. So with a more optimistic attitude, Bakura follows behind. 'Today I will find Ryou.'

The man walks past Bakura to enter another door, leaving Bakura to his own devices. There are shelves and stacks of games, display cases showcasing various figurines and toys. A glimmer of silver captures Bakura's eye. The figure of interest rests in a display case by the register. Upon further inspection, it looks to be steel. Bakura gawks at the fantastic craftsmanship.

A door clicking closed catches his attention, and he turns to the boy who emerges from it.

"Hey, Grandpa! I'm going to be late! I'm meeting the guys early, remember?"

He hasn't noticed Bakura yet. The boy has a wild style, that's for sure. His hair resembles his grandfather's in a remarkable way, pointy in all directions.

"Oh." They make eye contact. His already large eyes grow impossibly larger. "Umm.. Grandpa?"

'Does he recognize me?'

"Ho-ho, what is it Yugi? Get going, you're going to be late!"

"Grandpa.." The boy pulls the old man aside to speak in his ear. Bakura watches the pair closely, skin tingling with distrust.

The two whisper between themselves for a moment, but all Bakura can hear is "Are you sure?" And a following " Uh-huh."

"Boy! My grandson here seems to recognize you. He said you are some kind of thief! Is that true?" Anger replaces his chipper tone, throwing Bakura's good mood out the window.

"I'm not looking for trouble." Bakura was quiet, resigned. He was weary of conflict and just wanted to get on with his search.

"What's in that bag you're carrying? Show me!" Before Bakura has a chance to react, the man snatches the satchel from his hands.

"Give that back! I said I wasn't looking for trouble, and I meant it!"

But Bakura's words hold no value because the man has already looked into the bag. Wads of cash in neat bundles, an estimate of 100,000.

The man's face turns a deep shade of red. "Explain yourself right now, mister, or I'm calling the police!"

Bakura's mouth slips open, shocked at the man's threat. "I didn't steal it." The man wasn't buying it. How else would he have obtained it? "It was a gift."

The old man was skeptical. Bakura looks to the younger boy for some assistance. His eyes are downcast, shaking his head, doubtful and afraid. He won't be of any help.

"I need to find someone. Please let me go, and you can keep the damn money!" It was only given to him in case he couldn't find Ryou in time. And he was not going to let that happen.

"Grandpa, let me talk to him. Alone?"

"Yugi, I don't think-" The old man's voice strained from his contained anger.

"It's fine, grandpa. I can handle this."

"Yugi! If he is as dangerous as you say, I shouldn't allow you to be alone with him!"

"Maybe I was wrong, Grandpa. He seems sincere."

"Yugi-" Finally the man withdrew, muttering a curse as he disappeared behind the door. When the door clicked shut, Yugi turned to face Bakura.

"Bakura? What are you doing back?! How-?"

Bakura cut him off. "I don't have time for this. I need to go. I've wasted too much time as it is."

"You're trying to find Ryou! I can help you."

"You can? Then take me to him!" It sounded too good to be true, but maybe this boy knew Ryou personally. He seemed to recognize Bakura right off the bat, so it wasn't all that far fetched.

"First you have to answer my questions."

"Fine." The boy may be essential for getting to Ryou, better not piss him off.

"How did you come back? Why are you here?!" His tone changed, cracked. "Is Atem back, too? Where is he?!"

Bakura scrunched up his face. Of course the kid would ask that. The boys excitement at his appearance was alarming.

"I can't tell you why, it's confidential. All that I can tell you is the fate of the world is in jeopardy, and that I'm the one to save it." Gullible kid.

"Again? That doesn't make sense. Why would you be the one to save the world?"

"I don't have the patience for your insolence, shorty. Take me to Ryou right now!"

"But what about Atem?" The poor boy was still hopeful.

"The Pharaoh is in the afterlife."

Was he going to cry? Bakura almost felt bad telling him. It was obvious now that Yugi was the Pharaoh's precious hikary.

"Can't you at least tell me what we are in danger of?"

"Darkness." Bakura rolled his yes. His patience was wearing thin and he was getting anxious with every question. He was ready to get the hell out of the stuffy game shop, and find Ryou at last.

"The Shadow Realm?" Yugi paled, even looked like he may be sick.

"Can we go now?" Yugi was sure to have caught the impatience that time.

"Fine. Lets go." The boy let out a sad sigh, eyes downcast, refusing to meet Bakura's stare.

"I need my money. I'm not leaving here without it so that fool can have it for himself!" Bakura had just remembered that the old man had taken it to the back with him. What would he do if he DID need it at some point? Find a JOB?! No way.

"It's fine, I'll get it back to you. I promise. Oh, and there's something you should know about Ryou before I take you to him." Bakura gave him one last look of skepticism, before finally giving in. It was time.

They exited the shop, Bakura empty handed and apprehensive at the coming meeting. Questions now nipped at his conscious. Would Ryou accept him back? What would he do if that were not the case? And now without the money to fall back on, a dread crept up his spine.

"Bakura. Ryou has.. well. He suffers from depression, and we can't seem to shake him out of it. Here we are. Right up there. I'm leaving now. Bye!"

"Wait, what's that about Ryou?"

"Never-mind. Oh, and please don't tell Ryou I brought you here."

Bakura watched, puzzled, as the boy ran off down the road. With a dismissive grunt, he mounted the steps to knock on the door.

In just a few seconds the door swung open. The hikary looked out to a half-naked hooligan standing on his front porch. Alarmed by the strangers presence, he slammed the door in Bakura's face.

"Ryou?"

"Can I help you?" His voice muffled behind the door, but Bakura could hear the strain in his words.

"Ryou. It's your yami. Can I come inside? I'll explain everything."

"MY YAMI?" Bakura could here the chinking sound of the chain lock being set in place before he opened the door again. Ryou's bewildered stare took in Bakura's disheveled appearance, it was hard to fathom. His yami, back from the dead? Impossible. Bakura fought back the urge to snicker.

"I mean you no harm, Ryou. I need to speak with you."

And with that, Ryou unlocked the chain and stepped wide to allow Bakura entrance to his home. Ryou locked the door behind them and took a seat, waiting.

Bakura took a moment to settle in, take in his surroundings. Again, nothing at all was familiar to him, only Ryou. With a heavy sigh, he took a seat across from Ryou.

"I don't know where to begin."

"Why don't you begin with why you are here?"

"Okay. This is for your ears only, Ryou. It's confidential until we figure out what we're dealing with. Don't repeat it. Osiris sent me on a mission. If I succeed, I may receive entrance to the afterlife."

Ryou looked at him in disbelief. "What mission?"

"I know it sounds unbelievable. The shadows were supposed to be contained, the powers gone. Now something is stirring and I have to find out what it is and stop it. But i can't do it without you, Ryou."

Ryou stared for a second, incredulous. Bakura waited for the questions he was sure would come.

"Okay. Welcome back, I guess."


	2. The Thief, Humbled

Ryou's terse welcome is the last thing Bakura expects, but he isn't relieved. The hikari's tone emanates caution, even a hint of bitterness. The casual way it rolled from his pursed lips grates on Bakura's nerves.

With a thoughtful frown, Bakura leans back on the sofa. It appears as if Ryou isn't at all pleased with his return. Bakura's tired eyes slip shut as he sinks into the plush cushions, feet propping onto the table in front of him. Dried mud flakes off in several clumps, much to Ryou's dismay.

"AHEM!" Bakura opens a weary eye to pass the disgruntled man an idle glance. When the said man makes no move to correct him, Bakura returns to his thoughts.

Perhaps Ryou's bitterness is a side-effect of shock. After all, he is a 3000 year old spirit back from the dead. The story is a bit far-fetched, but it isn't like he is here because he wants to be.

Bakura's frown deepens, becoming a grimace. He pulls out of his mulling with a jaded sigh. He raises a stiff eyebrow at Ryou, offering his hikari his undivided attention. With a wry smirk, Bakura acknowledges the man's earlier greeting.

"I suppose I should thank you for the warm welcome." Humor laces his words, but they only serve to piss Ryou off even more.

Ryou dismisses the sarcastic remark with a wave of his hand. "Bakura.. " He clears his throat. After a brief pause, he continues. "I want your dirty feet off my coffee table."

Ryou waits with arms crossed for Bakura to heed his request before continuing. With a huff, Bakura complies, stomping both feet on the ground and rising to a stand. He matches Ryou's stance with crossed arms, glaring daggers.

"Are you going to help me, Ryou?" This quarrel is getting boring.

Ryou pretends to consider the question, mocking him with a finger on his chin. After a few moments of faux pondering, Ryou has his answer.

"No, I'm not. It's not my problem."

The admission, spoken with disdain, rockets Bakura's blood pressure. "Are you serious?" His voice shakes with anxiety.

Ryou stands his ground, undaunted by Bakura's alarm. "There is no need to raise your voice at me."

"Please.." Bakura trails off. "Without you-" He manages to level his tone, but his words come out as a frantic growl. His fists ball until the knuckles turn white.

"I won't do it."

"You don't understand!" Nerves shot, Bakura drops back onto the couch with head in his hands. It takes everything in him not to break down and scream his frustration out on Ryou.

"No, you don't understand. You can't barge into my life after all you've put me through and expect me to pretend that everything is fine! You want my help because I'm your ticket to the afterlife. NOT because you need my help to save the world from something that you likely had a part in creating. SCREW YOU, Bakura!"

"You were my only hope!" His ears ring, deafening him, drowning out any argument he could think of to convince Ryou. He covers his ears with his hands, pressing his palms in to ease the pain.

"Stop playing the fucking victim! You are not entitled to my help or courtesy. The gods gave you a second chance. That's more than you deserve!"

"I've already lost!" In his anger, Bakura kicks the table over onto it's side. It makes a solid thump on the thick carpet, but does no damage. By Ryou's enraged expression, Bakura might have thought otherwise.

"Get out. NOW!"

Ryou marches a speechless Bakura to the door, grabbing him roughly by the arm to shove him out. The door slams shut behind him. Bakura takes his leave when he hears the chain lock click into place.

He never meant to lose his temper. It's hard not to be angry with everything stacked against him. Several steps down the sidewalk, and Bakura is on his knees, clutching his stomach. Nausea has swelled in his gut, replacing the nervous anger. Tears and vomit threaten to spill, but he pushes onward.

What am I supposed to do now? After failing to gain Ryou's trust and no money to speak of, Bakura is at a loss. ' _I've failed before I could even begin.'_

He kicks stones off the sidewalk, eyes glued to the ground under his feet. His breath expels in puffs of condensation, fingers become numb from the frosty air. He is still wearing the ancient cloak and shendyt, leaving him well exposed to the elements. This was the price he now had to pay for allowing his unbridled emotions take control of his common sense. He could be sitting at Ryou's still, enjoying a more pleasant conversation. Maybe he could have convinced Ryou if he had told him the whole truth. Either way, he couldn't take another night in the freezing weather.

Giggling draws his attention ahead, just in time to sidestep two kids running across his path. They pay no heed to his presence, chasing each other in a game of tag. Their gleaming faces bring a smile to his lips, but fail to erase the remorse that has settled deep in his gut.

The park bench ahead beckons him to sit and think. He closes his eyes to the world around him. He was a fool to have accepted the god's shoddy offer. It was too good to be true. Now he must face whatever lies ahead on his own. It's nothing new, it should come as a comfort. His own terms, his own time. But it didn't. A lump lodges in his throat at the mere thought.

Shouts and children's laughter return, intruding on his self-loathing. Bakura watches, amused, as a small boy, bundled up in gloves and an overcoat, darts ahead of him. A scream bubbles up from his tiny lungs as he falls to his knees. Bakura immediately rises to help him, but the parent is there in an instant. The young mother scoops him into her arms, swinging him in the air and pecking him on the nose.

Yugi. The small hikari pops into his memory, a hope rising in his chest. The pharaohs light.

With renewed optimism, he tries to recall the direction of the game shop. He counts the houses, every turn, as he walks. The shop is there, across the intersection. He just has to make it across the highway, dodging cars and ignoring the angry shouts as he ran.

A bell chimes with the opening door. The old man is sitting behind the counter. He glances over his newspaper, rising to his feet when he recognizes Bakura.

"Back so soon? Did you come looking for Yugi or the money?" Trick question.

"Yugi. Is he here?" Bakura cringed at the sound of that. Too needy.

"No. He's out with his friends and won't be back until evening." The old man harrumphed, sitting back on his cushioned bar-stool.

"I'll just wait here for him."

"Oh no you won't!" He pointed to a sign. 'NO LOITERING' hung from a hook under the register. "There will be no "waiting" here, young man."

"Please. I have nowhere to go. I'm freezing, I'm tired, and I just need to talk to Yugi."

The man grew thoughtful. "Fine. If you're going to just hang around, I'm going to make you work!" Leaning behind the counter, he brings forth a rag and solution. "You're going to dust the shelves and polish the glass! Now get to it!"

Bakura growls but takes the offered rag. It beat wandering in the cold, and maybe it would help to pass the time. He refuses to leave without speaking to Yugi first, anyway.

He began by polishing the glass showcase at the register. That silver dragon caught his eye again, edges and teeth sharp as a razor blade.

The old man interrupted his inspection. "Like what you see?"

"Yes. It looks well made."

"Lucky day! It's on sale! $500."

"I can't buy that." Bakura snickers. Did the man just try to pull a fast one on him?

The old man huffed and returned to his seat behind the counter. Every now and then he would look up from his newspaper to glance at Bakura. Bakura paid him little mind, choosing to zone out and focus on his thoughts.

He shuffles around, deciding to move to the front window display. He removes every item to polish, rearranging them into a more attractive display.

As he moves on to the next aisle, a plate is sat down in front of him. A sandwich with all the fixings. He happened to drown out his entire environment, even managing to ignore the man offering to feed him. His stomach growled at the sight, much to his embarrassment. He thanks the man as his back turns to walk to his stool. Bakura scarfs down the food, wondering when his next meal would be.

All at once, a group of five kids come rushing through the door. Their voices are happy and animated, each talking over the other in their excitement.

Bakura lifts his head to the sounds, distracted from his dusting. He watches the boys barrel in, all heading for the large display advertising a new set of trading cards.

The old man joins them at the display, chuckling along but struggling to keep up with the rowdy kids. His hand clutches at his back as he bends to pick up a box that has fallen off the stand.

Bakura beats him to it, picking the box up off the floor and placing it back on the stand.

"I've got this. Let me help them." Bakura is sure he out of his mind, but he is actually eager to interact with the younger boys.

"It's OK. I'm not as spry as I used to be, but I'm not on my death bed." He is still clutching his back, and Bakura gives him a pointed glare before replying.

"I want to. I need a break." He rubs the back of his neck, massaging the tense muscles. He is stiff from slouching over dusty shelves all day, exhaustion creeping on back.

The man's bushy eyebrows raise, but he accepts the gesture with a nod and totters back to his bar stool.

Bakura is enjoying himself, teasing the kids. He kept up with their excitement, selling the new game with ease. Five kids left the store, laughing and talking about their newest toy.

Bakura's smile lingers on his lips even as he returns to his task. He moves with a renewed energy, finding a routine until he has dusted the entire store.

Evening has fallen by the time Yugi enters the shop. He greets his grandfather, chatting about how his day turned out. His face is alight with joy, but Bakura can't hear any details in their conversation. When the man points in Bakura's direction, Yugi's glance turns to see. His glee dims at the sight of Bakura, turning grim as he walks toward him.

"Bakura, what are you doing here? Did Ryou kick you out?"

The brat is smiling. Bakura scoffs, cuffing his neck with a palmed hand.

"So what happened?"

"That's exactly it, he kicked me out. Nothing else you need to know." The reminder hit him with a blow to the gut, his nausea returning in a flash.

"Then why are you here?"

Bakura stole himself for a moment, uncertain. He didn't have an answer. At least, nothing that wouldn't scare Yugi off immediately, the way he had Ryou.

"I need my money back." That was an excuse, and Yugi knew it.

"So have you asked Grandpa to give it back?"

Is it that easy? The laughing glimmer in Yugi's eye draws Bakura's mind blank, the "No" catching in his throat.

"Can I stay here? Just until I can convince Ryou to help me." Bakura hates to stoop so low, but it's his only option.

Yugi skips a beat, his amused smile falling into a frown. "Oh. Bakura, I don't think you can stay here." He hesitates before adding, "I don't even know you." His fingers search for something to fiddle, landing on the fine chain around his neck.

"I will do whatever it takes, just give me a place to sleep." It's his last shot.

"Grandpa doesn't trust you, I don't trust you. Don't mistake my kindness for ignorance." Yugi twiddles the chain, its metal plate catching the light. It dances across his face, reflecting off the polished surface.

A jolt of pain flashes through Bakura's mind. He rubs at his temples to ease the onset of a migraine, shaking away the sudden fear that enveloped him.

Bakura scoffs at his own folly, kicking the dust up under his feet. Of course it would end this way.

They both turn when they hear Yugi's grandfather lock the door for the evening. He flips the door sign to 'CLOSED' and shuts off the neon lights. They watch as he shuffles to the back of the shop, disappearing behind the back door.

The tension is thick between the two as Bakura glances at Yugi one last time. "I guess you should let me out, then." Pain laces his words, wracked with fear at what the night may hold. Yugi hesitates, studying Bakura's sudden change in demeanor.

The old man returns through the back door, Bakura's satchel in his hands. Without a word, he returns the bag of money, ignoring the gloomy aura that had settled in the cramped shop.

"If you can convince my grandson to trust you, I'll give you a job."

And with that, the man disappears again, allowing the door to swing shut behind him.


	3. The Thief, Out of Luck

Bakura stares blankly ahead, waiting for a response from Yugi. _What is he thinking?_

He examines the boy's expression for clues. Bakura's breath catches as Yugi's eyes shift from the closed door and back to Bakura's own.

He watches Yugi's careful movements and guarded expression. He watches him place the necklace under his shirt collar. Bakura feigns interest in the stitches in his robe, dodging the boy's suspicious gaze.

They stand in near complete darkness, each waiting for the other to speak. The man had shut off the lights and heat in the shop area after he locked up, likely assuming the two would follow. Now the stark cold from outside was seeping into the drafty shop, chilling Bakura down to his bones. He is half-naked after all, dressed for desert heat, not freezing winter. Bakura shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He hides his discomfort in favor of displaying his ever-present grin.

The boy is still watching him like a hawk. Bakura chuckles at the his glare, further displeasing the young blonde. Bakura pouts at his callousness. What would he need to do to win Yugi's trust?

With a cough to clear his scratchy throat, Bakura says outright, "Do you trust me, Yugi?"

Bakura knows the obvious answer, but he wants to hear it from Yugi. From there, he can come up with a plan. He can imagine it now, a nice comfy position as the old man's assistant. Perhaps the man will offer a place to live. Warm shelter, home cooked meals. Bakura's stomach growls at the thought of a nice meal. He coughs into his hand, attempting to cover up the offending sound.

Yugi grinds his teeth instead of replying. The dull sound jabs at Bakura's nerves. Yugi's glare is now a grimace, his entire countenance transforming in rage.

"Give me a chance." Exhaustion that he had staved off all day is creeping on him again. He can sense the biting wind on his bare skin now, a force of nature that may drive him to his second death. No way he would allow himself to back out on this only because the boy had a little doubt in his credibility and ethics. He needs the boys help, and he isn't going to leave until he has it.

He has several options that he can surmise. He can wing it. He can tell the truth. Or.. He can tell Yugi what he wants to hear. Perhaps a little lie involving the former Pharoah, Yugi's beloved Atemu. That would be easy, except that he basically already told the boy that he was not resurrected. But yet, he did not tell him that he would _not_ come back. Maybe he could twist that to his advantage?

Bakura scans the raging blonde. He takes a deep breath before turning his gaze away to contemplate his next words.. His vision glides over to the windows at the front of the shop. A few lamps light the streets, but there is little activity. The reminder of that biting chill air hits him again, and a sadness wells up inside. He knows he's lost before he's even spoken the words. Bakura is doubting himself.

"I'll help you, Yugi. If you can help me."

He turns his gaze back to the boy, hoping to see his reaction. At the same moment, a car's high beams briefly illuminate the shop. As the lights flash over them, Bakura realizes the boy has stepped closer. His arms are straight as a rod by his sides, fists balled. The grimace is still glued to his face, if more annoyed now than before.

"Yugi?"

Yugi ignores the request and the surprised whisper of his name. He closes the gap between them until they are nose to nose. Bakura can feel each hot breath that escapes from his lips. The proximity sends a chill up his spine, a surge of adrenaline and arousal from the threat.

"What have you done?"

' _What have I done?_ ' The accusation irks Bakura. Nothing he had done yet has called for any sort of incrimination. "Don't provoke me, Yugi." Bakura's tone was quiet and deep. The threat was clear.

"You must have tricked him somehow! Don't think I am fooled for a moment." Yugi's voice shook from his contained rage.

"What do you mean, tricked him? I haven't done a thing." Bakura licks his lips, inclined to shove the offending body away from him. The air shared between them is thick with animosity and danger. While Bakura will put up a good fight if needed, he is relying on Yugi to trust him. Lashing out would only serve against him.

"You have done a lot of horrible things, Bakura! It would have been easy for you to swindle your way into his favor. I won't succumb your tricks."

 _Swindle_? "I told you, I haven't done anything. I came here to talk to you, but he wouldn't let me hang around and wait. He had me work for him." Frustrated and out of drive, Bakura deliberately shoves the boy out of his way. He clutches his satchel of money and heads for the locked door, head low and without another word. He stooped low enough to beg once, gods forbid would he do it again.

"Where do you think you're going? The door's locked."

"Screw off. I thought I wanted your help, but I swear by the Gods I will do it myself before I come begging to you again. Let me out."

Yugi pauses. He looks Bakura over, suspicion still strong, but Bakura can tell by his posture that his fire is out. He was ready to converse.

"What did you come to talk to me about?" The boy's voice had dropped to a whisper, the anger missing from his tone. He is contrite and curious. Did he take what Bakura said as fact? The menacing demeanor is gone.

This surprises Bakura. He turns to face Yugi, the answer ringing in his ears. Heat rises to his cheeks. _What was I thinking? Yugi will never fall for it._ He swallows hard, the words he needs to speak caught in his throat.

"Well?" Yugi is attempting to smile, but his lips waver into something more of an uneasy grimace.

"I need you to do for me what Ryou wouldn't." Bakura exhales a shaky breath. "To be my light and guide me. Be there to remind me of who I am." A weight lifts from his shoulders. Even if Yugi says no, at least he finished what he set out to do.

Several moments pass where Bakura stares at his feet, unwilling to catch Yugi's stare. A tightness clutches at his stomach as he waits. Those violet orbs would be angry, incredulous even.

When Bakura finally looks up, the boy's face is downcast. His blonde bangs obscure his face in shadow.

With a sob, Yugi answers in a choked voice. "I can't help you, Bakura." He turns on his heal and runs to the back of the shop. Bakura watches on, stupefied, staring at the door Yugi slams behind him.

Dismayed, Bakura completes the short walk to the door. With a huffed curse, lowers himself to the floor, leaning his back on the glass. His eyes close, and he bids the tears away. He will not allow himself to shed a single tear over this. He has never relied on anyone in the past, why is he trying so hard to do so now? It is nonsense.

But he can't help but believe it: his final hope is now diminished.

Soft footsteps alert Bakura to the old man's presence. Weary, he meets the man's gaze. He watches, dismayed, as the man fiddles with a set of keys and nods when he finds the correct one. Without a word, Bakura stands to his feet and moves aside to let the man unlock the door.

"I hope you understand, son. It's just not the right time.." The man gives him a meaningful look but doesn't wait for a response. He simply locks the shop once Bakura is clear of the entrance.

A gust of wind slaps Bakura's face as soon as he walks out. It is so sharp, tears spring to his eyes. He walks several blocks down the street to left of the game shop, back to the small playground. The wind is howling an empty, lonely tune, reminding Bakura he has nowhere to go, and nobody to turn to. An odd nostalgic pain that grips his entire being.

Street lamps interspersed throughout the park offer considerable illumination for the entire park. Bakura stumbles past the bench he had sat on earlier that day, where he had watched children play. Depression lingers on his thoughts as he sits down on the bench. He sinks deep into his seat, letting his head drop back, face to the night sky. Osiris shines above him. Stinging tears well up, spilling over despite his efforts to will them away.

He rubs at the tears streaming down his cheeks. _This is getting me nowhere. Why couldn't I make it work? Why did I back out?_ Bakura sighed as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His eyesight trails forward and comes to a rest, vision soft and blurry.

He let his thoughts carry him back to his meeting with Ryou. How he had lashed out without consequence. He had anticipated Ryou's resistance, even his animosity. So why had he blown things so far out of proportion? It all boils down to the impromptu visit that neither of them had prepared for. Bakura tried winging it. He had kept as much information as he could from the boy, and it only aided in making his light hate him more. What's more, he couldn't control his anger around him. He should have known from the start that Ryou would never volunteer to help him. Especially if that help was solely in favor of Bakura.

And with Yugi.. He had let himself plunge so low as to beg for food and shelter. Even contemplated deceiving the boy just to have a decent chance at that food and shelter. He had failed completely before he had even began. It is true he wanted his help. Perhaps Yugi saw right through his contrived methods. Bakura recognizes that he is the idiot here, now miserable and freezing on his park bench in the dead of night.

With that, he clutches his satchel to his chest and stands up. Doing a once over of the park, he spots a play castle, a set of swings, and some other odd objects for kids to play on. The castle is what captures his attention, as its the only structure offering cover from the wind. He walks over to it, avoiding the wooden barriers sticking out of the ground around the play area. He grips the frozen metal rungs of the ladder as he climbs to the top. The walls and roof are solid, and it looks like as fine a place as any to sleep for the night, perhaps many more.

Standing tall, he looks out through a small window of the gazebo-like tower. From there, he can view the whole park, past the street and into the city. It is a serene night, the wind has died down to nothing. The heavens are clear and alive with a billion twinkling lights. He catches another glimpse of the god in the stars.

With a final sigh, he drops to the wooden floor and huddles over his knees, satchel clutched to his chest.

* * *

First, I want to thank my followers, and a special thanks to the couple of people who have favorited this story already! Huge thanks to my reviewers, as well!

Second, I am SO sorry this chapter has taken several months to upload. It has seen several different changes, all of which were very different from the last. I am ready to move on to the next chapter, and I do not plan to linger on that as much as I had this one. Expect more frequent updates!

~Enjoy!


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